


The Season of the Flame's Grace

by SigmaJump



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: But probably spoiler-free, Did I mention fluff?, Festive season, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Technically post-game, What do you mean I just reskinned Christmas, much fluff, very fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigmaJump/pseuds/SigmaJump
Summary: In the land of Orsterra, there are many holy days throughout the year to give praise and thanks to the gods that protect the lands. Perhaps the holiest of these days is the Day of the Flame’s Grace. This day is in honour of Aelfric, the Flamebringer, whose flame brings warmth and comfort to all. Celebrated just as the cold winter months approach the lands, it is a festive day in a festive season where families, loved ones, and friends spend time together while exchanging gifts and tidings of cheer.Well… for those who have them to spend the days with, that is…





	The Season of the Flame's Grace

“Bye, you two! Hope to see you around soon. I’ll have the biggest store you’ve ever seen! No ‘friend discounts’ though,” the bubbly girl beamed. Turning and waving, one Tressa Colzione half-sprinted through the paths of Rippletide. Her massive backpack bounced happily along with her into the distance, filled to the brim with ready-for-sale treasures.

“Well, shucks, sure am goin’ to miss her,” Alfyn exclaimed as he and his companion continued down their own path to nowhere in particular. The two of them, even though they’d only known each other for what could only have been a couple of months, have had a lifetime’s worth of adventures together. Yet, what had quickly grown from a group of different paths had split once more. Their goals accomplished, the eight of them slowly dwindled as people returned to their homes, their families, or to simply start anew. And with the merchant returning home to a warm, loving family, well, that just left the two of them.

Alfyn sniffled a little, turning to face his companion, who was little more than a bundle of white hair buried in a long, well-used purple shawl. “I know you’ll miss her too, Therry.”

“I told you not to call me that,” the smaller man retorted. Underneath his sprawling shawl, the thief Therion crossed his arms over his chest tightly. Alfyn gave a low chuckle and swung his arm along Therion’s shoulders.

“Well, still, must be nice,” Alfyn pondered aloud. “Gettin’ to go back home to a warm meal, and a warm bed, and a warm family, eh? Feels like I’m goin’ all teary-eyed here.” The time with Tressa hadn’t been that long itself, perhaps a couple of weeks, but by the end it felt like he had known the young merchant for years.

“Hn,” Therion snorted, ducking down and letting Alfyn’s arm swing down over him.

With that, it was the apothecary’s turn to frown. “Ah, shucks, you don’t need to be so down...” Alfyn paused in his thoughts and shivered a little from the cold night air. “Anyway, guess we’d better head to the inn for now. Sure is startin’ to get chilly out. Night’s fallin’ so much earlier, ya know...”

“Yeah. It’s almost like it does this every year,” the sarcastic reply came. “... I hate this time of year.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. Sure, winter’s gonna be here soon, but that means things like snowball fights! And all the Flame’s Grace Day decorations! Mulled wine! Presents! An’ did I mention the mulled wine?!” he exclaimed, beaming all the while. 

His smile turned into a yelp when a palm came out from underneath the cloak and smacked him upside the head.

“You said ‘wine’ twice, you big drunk,” Therion corrected him, rolling his eyes.

That made him laugh. His mood improved once more, and he shot Therion a brilliant smile. “Nope! Well, yup. But I meant to. Cause it’s just that good. You should try this recipe Zeph knows, and--” here he noticed a little bit of a scowl from Therion, but decided to ignore it. “--And he just puts in the best herbs. I’ve really gotta get his recipe sometime... But yeah, look at all the shopping here. I’m sure I could get Zeph something nice and practical. Ooh, and something cute for Nina, too.”

The two of them passed another market stall. Like with any other potential customer, the peddler called out to them, showing them their wares. Even though night was approaching, and the cold was indeed coming down, nothing could stop business... especially at this time of the year. A disinterested Therion passed through the stalls, making mental notes of what he might want to scope out later, and Alfyn obliviously continued to ramble on about his memories of the season with his practically adopted family. Even as they reached the inn, he kept going on as Therion handled the transaction. It made things a bit easier now that he didn’t have to worry about hiding a certain telling bangle.

Once that was taken care of, the two of them headed to the room. Therion unlocked the door and opened it for them. Alfyn started to wander in, reaching back to try and guide him in, as well, but he stepped back, away from his hand.

He tossed the key in Alfyn’s direction, who caught it, blinking in confusion. 

“I have stuff to do,” Therion explained, a bit briskly. “I’ll be at the tavern later. I assume you’ll already be plastered by the time I get there.” Alfyn was a little taken aback by this, but still mustered a cheeky grin.

“You know it, Therry! Don’t get caught!”

“Like I would,” Therion replied. Alfyn swore that he then heard a muffled “And don’t call me Therry,” buried in the thief’s scarf, but he chose to ignore it.

Alfyn was used to Therion’s mood swings at this point, but even still… This one felt different to him somehow. Like there was something else behind it.

“Just when we finally had some alone time…” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Could’ve talked for a bit about… stuff… But, well, if he won’t tell me, guess I got nothin’ to do but get me some ale,” he reassured himself, and headed to the tavern.

_ A few short minutes later… _

Opening the door to the tavern, Alfyn gave a grin and a mighty wave to the barkeep. The gruff, older gentleman gave a nod back and went back to organizing his counter. The tavern was fairly empty, with a couple out-of-town merchants at one table, and the rest of them free. Alfyn helped himself to one of the tables near the corner, settled his satchel on the chair beside him, and leaned back. While stretching his arms up high and rolling his shoulders, he called out for a mug. With little else to do, the barkeep meandered over with a full tankard, setting it down on the table. Alfyn took a long sip, savouring it.

“Ahhh... That’s some good stuff,” he commented to no one in particular. The barkeep grunted quietly and returned to his counter.

A bit later and halfway through his second drink, Alfyn heard the door to the tavern swing open. A cold breeze instantly swept through the room, almost making him feel bad for when he did it earlier. But, he soon warmed up upon seeing his favourite thief saunter inside. Waving his hand high, like he was in a crowded room, he called out, “Hey, Therry, over here!”

Therion visibly muttered something, but quietly enough that Alfyn couldn’t hear it ( though he could certainly have guessed what it was). Therion took the chair across from Alfyn and plunked himself down, slouching a little more than usual.

“You okay there?” Alfyn asked with concern in his voice.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He doubted it, but it wasn’t like there was much he could do without angering him further. So, he simply shrugged at this terse exchange and went to finish his drink. 

Just then, the barkeep brought over a mug for Therion, and a fresh one for himself. Alfyn nodded his thanks, and got what by now felt like the usual half-nod back. 

“Well, I’m a little down myself,” he said, waiting for a response. But, upon not getting one, he decided to continue anyway. “Ya know, this time of year… This’ll be the first time I won’t be spending the Grace Day with Zeph and Nina.”

“Oh,” Therion half-asked.

“Yup. You remember Mercedes, right? That librarian lady?”

“Nope. Not a clue,” Therion replied coldly.

Alfyn couldn’t tell if Therion was annoyed, not interested, or actually didn’t know. But, nothing gets in the way of a good tale, and Alfyn continued. “Get this. You know a little after we’d left Clearbrook the first time, you gave me this stack of papers all like, ‘I grabbed this from Zeph. Thought it might have had something valuable, but looks like it’s just some personal letters,’ and I was all ‘Aw, shucks, I guess I’ll get it back to him next time we come back.’ Well heck, I found this letter in there that he wrote to this girl we knew from way back when we were just kids.”

“Huh,” another listless reply, if a little irritated.

“Yeah… Well… Turns out this whole time he’d had this massive thing for her.”

Therion raised an eyebrow, luckily the one covered by the rest of his hair, and took a long gulp from his mug.

Alfyn sighed, “Yeah…”

Therion pondered his chance for information gathering. Perhaps he could finally answer a question that’s been on his mind for a while. 

“Must’ve sucked for you, then,” Therion cautiously implied.

“Yup…” Alfyn started, then realized what he just said. “I mean, no, he, I, we… I mean… maybe… if things were different… but, well, guess this letter…” He might have sniffled a little, but caught his composure quickly. “... A-anyway, when we did that stuff with Cyrus I ran into her at that big library. Said hi, gave her the letter. Must’ve really hit the heart, eh. She grabbed some paper and a pen quick as she could and how about it, gave me a letter to give  _ back _ to Zeph.”

“How thoughtful,” the irritated voice grew.

“Yup. So I was gonna give it to Zeph the next time we were in Clearbrook. And, ya see, when you were off handin’ back those Dragonstones, all ‘I need to do this alone,’ well, that’s where the rest of us got off to. Gave Zeph the letter, he gets all teary-eyed, I get all teary-eyed, and two shakes later there’s Mercedes in the flesh. Turns out while we were out adventurin’ I reckon she’d found a chance to get away from work for a bit. Sure was a happy reunion,” he trailed off a little softly.

“Must’ve been,” a toe tapped quickly.

“Yeah… So, I’d been keeping in touch with Zeph, you know, letting him know where we’ll be next so he can send a letter, and the last one says that this year him and Nina are travelling up to Atlasdam to spend it with Mercedes. Awfully sweet of them… Guess this means no gift exchange for me this year, which I’m right bummed about And Nina’s face always lights up so mu- Hey! Where’re you going?”

He couldn’t take another word of this. Therion stood up forcefully, slammed some coin on the table- uncharacteristically more than he should have- and stormed out of the tavern. A somewhat tipsy Alfyn stood up, apologizing to the barkeep who merely returned an understanding nod. He crossed the room and followed him out the door, returning into the cold, late autumn air.

“Therry, come on,” he called out at the small figure storming away. “What did I say?”

At his words, Therion stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels. “You want to know? You really want to know, medicine man?”

“Of course I do!”

“Fine. I’m tired of you talking about all this crap!” he shot back.

“You— huh? What?” 

Therion shook his head and stomped back towards him. “You want a present? Here’s your damn present.”

He reached under his cloak and whipped out a package, shoving it into Alfyn’s midsection. He then turned to storm off again. “And I’ll have you know I didn’t steal that. I was planning on saving it for later, but if you’re going to spend the whole night getting all nostalgic on me, then you might as well have it now.”

“What? What the heck is this…?” Alfyn looked at the violently-offered offering, all while trying to play catch-up again. It was a satchel. Not much unlike the one he already had over his shoulder.

“It’s a bag,” Therion replied bluntly. “You sling it over your arm and put your medicine crap in there.”

Alfyn was dumbfounded. “Well, yeah, I know that. But… why?”

“Because I felt like it, idiot,” Therion hissed. “... I’m sick of you going ‘Zeph this,’ and ‘Zeph that,’ and ‘Zeph and Nina are my family,’ and…” he trailed off as he felt the footsteps beside him slow down. And heard the soft, quiet, not-quite-a-sob indicating that maybe he shouldn’t have gone off like that.

“Gee… I… Therry I didn’t mean to…” Alfyn choked out. “I mean… I know you… you’re, but… they’re important to me too… and this is the first… and…”

“No! It’s not that,” Therion cried out. “It’s that I’m sick of hearing about it because  _ I _ want to be that person in your life.  _ I _ want to be your family. And dammit,  _ I _ want you to be wearing  _ my _ bag around your shoulders. I never wanted to feel like that about anyone ever again. Ever since…” he paused, remembering people he wished he could forget. “... But then you come into my life. You showed me what it’s like to really have someone care about you. And I want to give that same feeling back.”

With that, Therion stopped. He realized what he’d just said, even in frustration, might have just been interpreted as a confession.

Alfyn was confused. “You… you mean…?” 

Taking a deep breath to calm his own nerves, to avoid another outburst, Therion collected his thoughts. “Look, everyone else has gone back home.  I know I don’t have one to go back to, but I don’t care. I just… I just want to keep going with you. Whether you go back to Clearbrook, or go to the next town and heal people or... I don’t know, whatever makes you feel good. I want to be there with you. And I wanted this to be special.”

“Therry…”

“So just take the damn bag, and be happy,” Therion mumbled, forgetting all of his usual comebacks. He looked down, not wanting to Alfyn to see how much he was blushing. 

He suddenly felt his face buried in Alfyn’s chest. A strong pair of arms wrapped around him and held him tight, nearly suffocating him.

“I just...” Alfyn started, words tumbling over one another, “I’d always hoped that you… I never thought you’d actually feel that…” 

His voice faltered a little when he felt a strong push against his chest.

Now that he could breathe again, Therion explained, “I know we’ve been through a lot this year... and that we’ve only known each other for a few months. You’ve seen so much of my past coming back to haunt me… but… you’ve always been there. And I don’t know, maybe… maybe I still want you to be there.”

Therion’s arms carefully reached around him, and gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Dang, Therry…” Alfyn squeezed back even harder, and then dropped his arms. Therion looked up, and saw a half-startled and half-worried expression on his face. He instinctively pulled back a little bit, confused. 

Alfyn continued his train of thought, “But I didn’t get  _ you _ anything.”

“There’s still time. And you’re enough as it is. More than enough. More than anyone’s ever given me.”

Therion looked up at the other man, looked up at a pair of eyes staring right at his, which were starting to well up once more. He tentatively reached up with one hand and wiped them away for him. 

“Don’t cry, idi-… I mean… just… Happy early Day of the Flame’s Grace, Alfyn.” 

He pulled Alfyn’s shoulders down so their faces met, and he gave a soft, gentle, and a ‘first of many to come’ kiss on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge, HUUUUUUUUGE thanks to court_court for editing, and all the great suggestions.
> 
> Inspired by a random conversation with tuna a while back about "Well, if Orsterra doesn't have Christmas, what *would* they have?" So I figured "Day of the Flame's Grace", and then this happened eventually.


End file.
